


The Save

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Mal [10]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:31:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal demonstrates his usefulness by saving Trip during a crisis on the ship. In return he gets a lollipop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Save

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            "—so if we reroute that excess power through the EPS modulator, we'll be able to increase the overall system efficiency by three to four percent," Trip concluded.

            Archer studied the rather complex diagram Trip had devised for another few moments. Despite his impatience, Trip was actually an excellent teacher, more than willing to take the extra time with someone whom he felt was really making an effort. Combine that with a brilliant engineering mind complimented by his unpretentious manner, and Archer could see his friend becoming one of the most popular instructors at Starfleet's Engineering Training Corps someday. Assuming his frequent lapses in common sense allowed him to survive that long.

            "What about the additional strain on the power couplers?" Archer queried, pointing to part of the schematic.

            "Well, they're rated to handle that high a flow rate," Trip explained, "but just in case they get a little shaky, my crew's come up with a couple creative bypasses. We'll have snack time in just a minute. Now if you take a look at the way this coupler's designed…"

            It took Archer a moment to realize that the disparate comment was not directed at him—although frankly he wouldn't turn down a cup of coffee and a chunk of carbohydrates right about now—but rather at Mal, who knelt on the floor at Trip's feet, only occasionally displaying his impatience by tugging on Trip's pant leg. Archer tried to refocus on what Trip was telling him about the power couplers.

            "Commander?" Trip and Archer glanced up at the catwalk surrounding Engineering, where one of Trip's crew was leaning expectantly over the railing. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but we're getting a strange energy fluctuation up here. Could you come take a look?"

            Trip turned apologetically to Archer, who waved his concern off. "Go ahead, might be important."

            "Probably just the engines needin' to be burped again," Trip muttered, climbing up the nearby ladder. Or at least that was what Archer _thought_ he said.

            Mal, of course, dogged Trip eagerly. "Ooh, the _catwalk_ ," he announced to no one in particular. "Want to see me walk on the railing again, Trip?"

            "Maybe later, Mal," Trip replied distractedly, frowning at the readings the ensign showed him.

            "Anything wrong?" Archer called up after a moment.

            "Um… mind if we continue our chat later, Captain?" Trip answered instead, eyes not leaving the errant panel. "I should probably look into this."

            Okay, _now_ Archer was worried. Reaching for the ladder himself he asked, "Is it something—"

            An explosion rocked the ship, knocking people off their feet. Archer clung to the ladder until the worst of the tremors subsided. "Trip?" he shouted up to the catwalk, coughing—the room was filling with smoke from the fires that burst from the more sensitive power grids.

            "I'm okay, Captain!"

            Archer grabbed the nearest extinguisher and helped the crew douse a couple of fires before jamming the comm button and angrily demanding, "Archer to Bridge. What the h—l was that?!"

            T'Pol's voice was cool and unflustered. " _We appear to have made contact with a pocket of—_ "

            Another explosion jerked the ship—Archer heard a shout and looked up just in time for his heart to stop, as Trip was shaken over the catwalk railing, plunging headlong towards the metal deck a good three meters below.

            There was no time to react—Archer started to run, no thought of what he would do to save his friend but determined to meet him. Still staring upward, Archer saw a second figure sail off the catwalk, of his own volition apparently, and somehow wrap himself around Trip mid-air. The two of them slammed into the deck with a sickening thump, Mal taking most of the impact.

            Trip rolled away and popped up to his feet almost immediately, just as Archer reached them. "Trip! Are you okay?"

            The engineer seemed more surprised than anything else. "Yeah, fine," he answered, mind already spinning off in a million directions. "Ramirez! Throttle down the warp field! Abijou, keep an eye on those relay circuits!" He turned back to Mal, who was slowly standing. "Mal, are you alright?"

            Archer didn't see how he possibly could be. But the dark-haired man nodded quickly. "Good job, buddy, thanks," Trip told him, squeezing his arm before running off to continue the crisis management. Mal trailed along behind him dutifully.

            Archer didn't have time to contemplate the little gymnastics display right now. He had to find out what was happening to his ship. "I'll be on the Bridge!" he announced.

 

            A few hours later things had calmed down enough for Archer to start checking on damage reports personally, and the first place he always headed was Sickbay. Mercifully, the room was nearly empty, except for one patient propped up in a biobed—Mal. He seemed awake and alert, so Archer approached him.

            "Hello, Mal," he greeted, frowning a little. "Are you hurt?" Kind of a dumb question, he supposed.

            "Only a little," Mal replied pleasantly. "But the doctor said I should rest here for a while."

            "Where _is_ Dr. Phlox?"

            "He had to go out on a call," Mal told him helpfully. "He said if you came by, I should let you know that so far it's been minor injuries only."

            "That's good to hear," Archer nodded, relieved. Although he wondered how minor Mal's injuries could be if Phlox was keeping him in bed in Sickbay. His eye was drawn to the thin white stick poking out of Mal's mouth, which twitched whenever he spoke. "What's that?"

            Mal pulled it out, revealing a small brownish sphere on one end of the stick. "It's a sucker," he explained to Archer happily. "Dr. Phlox gave it to me because I was so good. Would you like some?" Generously he offered the moist candy to Archer.

            "Thank you, no," the Captain replied politely.

            "This is the kind of sucker that _I_ suck on," Mal continued, and the statement was just weird enough for Archer to stick around a bit longer. "But the osmotic eel"—and here he gently pulled away part of the cloth covering one of his hands, exposing some blistered red skin and one busy starfish-shaped creature—"has suckers that suck on _me_." He grinned at Archer. "Isn't that clever?"

            Archer looked distastefully away from the therapeutic sea creature. It wasn't even on _him_ and he wanted to be sedated while near it. "What happened to your arm?" he asked instead.

            Mal glanced down at the damage without concern. "Oh, I got burned," he shrugged. "But it's okay, I'll heal in a couple days. Maybe less with Ploppy to help me."

            For a moment Archer wondered if Phlox had Mal on some kind of drugs. Then he realized, disturbingly, that he probably didn't. "Ploppy?"

            "That's what I've named the eel," Mal clarified. "Because of the sound he makes." They were both silent for a long moment. Archer even turned his ear more towards the creature. He heard nothing. "Well, he doesn't make the sound all the time," Mal amended.

            "Well, I hope you're feeling better soon," Archer remarked, starting to leave.

            "Oh, I’m sure I shall," Mal assured him. "Only it's a bit lonely in here," he added. "But Trip's coming soon."

            "I was just on my way to Engineering to speak with him," Archer said, inching towards the door.

            "Oh, he's not in Engineering," Mal corrected helpfully.

            "He's not?"

            "Nope. He's about to walk in here," Mal told him confidently. "He's coming to see me."

            Archer glanced through the frosted doors but saw no one. "How do you know? Did you talk to him?"

            "No. I just know."

            Suddenly the Sickbay doors opened—admitting Dr. Phlox. Mal did not seem disappointed, however. "Ah, Captain! Making your rounds, I see."

            Archer stepped a little further away from Mal. "Yes. No serious injuries, I heard?"

            "That's correct," Phlox confirmed. "Mostly bumps and bruises." He walked up to Mal, checking the readings above his bed carefully, and Archer was drawn back. "My most serious case is right here." But he didn't sound overly concerned.

            "I’m a serious case," Mal repeated proudly.

            Archer thought _that_ was about right. "Have you got him on any of that happy juice you brew up, Doctor?" he inquired hopefully.

            "Oh, it's hardly _that_ serious," Phlox dismissed. "Just a little bit of local anesthetic where the osmotic eel—"

            "Ploppy," Mal supplied.

            "—er, Ploppy, is working, and a mild analgesic overall," the doctor concluded.

            "So what happened to him—" Archer began, but he was cut off.

            "Here comes Trip!" Mal announced with delight. A moment later the Sickbay doors opened again and a rather disheveled Chief Engineer entered.

            "Oh, hey, Captain," Trip greeted, mildly surprised. "'Fraid we were gonna miss each other."

            "I stopped by to check with Phlox," Jon explained. "I was—"

            "Where've you been?" Mal insisted, drawing Trip's attention. "You're filthy! Doctor! Have you got something I can clean Trip with?" Phlox looked as though he were assessing several noxious possibilities.

            "Don't bother," Trip told him off-hand. "I'm just gonna get dirty again anyway." Mal wrinkled his nose in disapproval.

            "I was just about to ask what happened to Mal," Archer continued, when he thought he could get the comment out.

            Trip grinned. "Why, he is our man of the hour, Captain!"

            "I only get an hour?" Mal asked in confusion.

            Trip patted his shoulder. "I'd put him in for a commendation if he had, you know, an actual rank." Mal beamed with pleasure.

            "So what happened?" Archer prodded for the third time.

            "Let's show him your ribs," Trip suggested eagerly. Phlox shook his head at the antics but helped to pull Mal's t-shirt up so Archer could see the nasty purple bruise covering his side. "Cracked _three_ of 'em," Trip reported. "That right there coulda been my head!"

            Archer had forgotten about the dramatic rescue. "That was really quite impressive," he agreed, "and very brave."

            Mal soaked up the praised like an osmotic eel with damaged flesh. "Well, I had to protect Trip, you know," he demurred modestly.

            "Then," Trip continued enthusiastically, "when I had to get into the reactor housing and start ripping out the relay panels"—Archer didn't like where this story was going with the condition of his ship—"Mal could tell when a relay was gonna blow and yank me away just in time!" He nodded at the burned skin on Mal's arm, which Archer thought maybe was looking a little better even now. "Didn't quite get _himself_ outta the way each time," he added affectionately, running a hand through Mal's hair.

            "I'll heal," the other man insisted dismissively.

            "Say, what are you sucking on, anyway?" Trip asked with curiosity.

            Mal popped the candy out of his mouth. "It's a sucker. Would you like some?"

            "What flavor is it?" Trip questioned, as if his decision hinged upon that.

            Mal looked at the shrinking sphere. "I don't know. Brown?"

            Trip took the used sucker and gave it a few experimental slurps while Archer fought to keep his face straight. "Root beer," he finally determined. Mal clearly had no clue what that was but looked impressed anyway.

            "See, I'm sucking on a sucker while the osmotic eel's suckers suck on me!" Mal repeated to his new audience. "Isn't that clever?"

            Trip gave it some thought, still sharing the candy. "That _is_ kind of clever," he decided. "You know what else _sucker_ can mean? It means someone who's real gullible, you can trick them easily 'cause they'll just believe everything you say."

            "Is that true?" Mal asked with a frown.

            Trip grinned. "No. Sucker."

            " _What?_ "

            "Nah, I'm kiddin', it's true." He patted Mal's hair fondly.

            "Uh, Trip?" Archer hated to interrupt the wordplay festival, but… "How are the engines?"

            Trip shrugged in a way that didn't exactly give Archer hope. "That pocket of charged particles we hit really did a number on the ship's systems, Captain," he began.

            "Which number?" Mal wanted to know, and Trip stuck the sucker back in his mouth.

            "I've got half a dozen blown relays on every deck, not to mention all the ones I had to pull in Engineering to keep the warp core from blowin' up," Trip went on, taking the sucker offered by Mal again and tasting it. "It's gonna take my crew at least four or five days to repair them. Plus rerouting all the shot power conduits, repairing the power couplers…"

            Trip was gesturing with the sucker as he spoke. Archer found it very distracting. "Bottom line, Trip," he requested grimly.

            Trip took a final swipe of the nearly-depleted sucker and handed it back to Mal to finish off. "I wouldn't recommend goin' to warp for at least four days," he offered heavily. "And only then if T'Pol's managed to modify the sensor array to detect these particles at a greater distance—'cause we can't go through this too many more times."

            Archer nodded that he understood. He didn't _like_ it—sitting dead in the water, afraid to move for fear of touching off more explosions, at least until they could see where the danger lurked—but he understood. "Keep me informed."

            "Aye, sir." Trip turned back to Mal. "Buddy, I'm gonna send a steward up here with a snack for you, if that's okay with the Doc." Phlox gave his consent. Mal looked ecstatic. "But I gotta get back to work now, okay?"

            Mal's expression fell somewhat. "Couldn't I come with you?" he pleaded. "I could bring Ploppy, he could help."

            Trip's lips twitched. "New pet name for ya, Captain?"

            "The eel, I believe," Archer replied with great dignity.

            "I think the Doc wants to keep both you and… Ploppy here for a while longer," Trip replied to Mal.

            "Indeed so," Phlox concurred.

            "But I'll come back and check on you, okay?" Trip promised.

            "Okay," Mal agreed reluctantly.


End file.
